Alone Time: Non-Optional

Photo by Ana Tavares on Unsplash

Something fascinating about Enneagram Type Fives (me and my friend Erin) is that we cannot tell you what we think or feel about something that just happened.

And I don’t mean “will not.”

I mean “cannot.”

You could put a gun to our Granny’s head and tell us that her life depended on us telling you how we felt about the thing you just said RIGHT NOW… and we’d be helpless.

(Well, my Granny wouldn’t. She’d pull out her possum-hunting rifle and chase you off. But I’ve never met Erin’s Granny, so I don’t know what she would do.)

Enneagram Type Fives need alone time to process thoughts, feelings, emotions, and inner world stuff.

That processing cannot – can. not. – happen in the presence of others.

And it’s not about a lack of trust or a reflection on the quality of our relationship.

It’s simply how Enneagram Type Fives are built.

That alone time for processing – it’s essential. Without it, we’re rudderless. Until we get time to ourselves, we have no way to know what we think or feel.

Can you imagine that? If you’re not a Five, that probably feels bewildering.

And it can be. It’s tough to live in a society that wants immediate responses when you don’t know how you think or feel until you get time to yourself.

That’s part of why my writing process is so important to me. When it’s just me and the blank page, anything that needs sorting gets sorted.

But when I’m chatting with someone, that’s not what’s happening.

Even if it’s my closest friend. Or the world’s best therapist. Or my beloved hubbalicious.

Other things are happening while we’re talking, of course. Integrating what I discovered during my alone time, for example. Bonding. Connecting. Deepening our relationship.

But the actual processing – the lynchpin of the whole thing – that happens alone for those of us who are Fives.

Interesting, huh?

The Enneagram was the first wisdom system I ever became obsessed with. And do you want to know how I learned my type?

I was in rehab. And I had just received big news. Big, heavy news.

And I went to the counselor on duty. “I learned this thing about my family today,” I told her, “And it feels like I should be having some feelings about it but I’m not?”

“Close your eyes,” she responded.

Which seemed kind of weird, but basically everything in rehab is weird, so I went with it.

“With your eyes closed, tell me everything you saw in this room.”

And I rattled off everything that was there.

“You have nothing to worry about,” she responded. “This isn’t a dissociation response or anything like that. You’re an Enneagram Type Five, known as the Observer. That’s why I had you close your eyes and tell me everything you’d observed.”

“You’ll have feelings about this news,” she continued. “But you haven’t had any alone time yet. And until you have that, you’ll have no idea what you think or feel.”

“Give it a week or so. Feelings unfold slowly for Fives. Don’t try to force it to happen faster, and don’t let anyone else try to speed up the timeline.”

And she was right. That’s exactly how it happened. And exactly how it has always happened.

AND ISN’T THAT SUCH A HELPFUL THING TO KNOW ABOUT YOURSELF IF THAT’S HOW YOU’RE BUILT?!

Love,

A student of Earth’s wisdom systems

***

Morning Musings is a delight-first writing practice where I wake up, put my fingers on the keyboard and “learn in public” (credit: Liz Gilbert). The delightful humans who read these musings tend to see them as an invitation to slow down, have a virtual cup of coffee together, and contemplate the human experience. If you’d like to join our tribe, subscribe here.

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